Some Enchanted Evening
by Xyris
Summary: The tallest tales make for the best adventures...
1. Ordinary Day

"Some Enchanted Evening" by Xyris

Disclaimer: Although characters and place names from Star Ocean 2 appear throughout this story, it is quintessentially a tale told from the perspective of Celes Chere, and I have thus elected to label this a Final Fantasy story instead of a crossover. I leave tremendous thanks to everyone who has reviewed 'Fear and Loathing in South Figaro' and 'Final Fantasy: Oblivion', and I may yet pound out another fanfic or two before getting back to work on my novel. Cheers!

[Do I start writing all this down...Name this for me, heat the cold air...Take the chill off of my life...Cross my heart, hope not to die...Swallow evil, ride the sky...Then, the Unnamed Feeling...Takes me away. -'The Unnamed Feeling', Metallica]

* * *

I've never kept a journal before.

I suppose, I've never really known a reason why, although being some mindless drone to a now-defunct Empire may have had something to do with it. Opinion was often believed to have bred opposition in Vector, and all Imperials were as silent to Gestahl as they were subservient. Magitek Knights like myself were, generally, no acception . . .

Hierarchy. My apologies. This isn't what I'm trying to get down on paper.

I stepped down from the deck of the Falcon five years ago, and I haven't set foot upon those adventurous timbers since. Five years. Gosh, when you come right out and say it like that, you wonder to yourself where all that time went. Probably swallowed by the same hole that had claimed my friends. Had they forgotten? Were they dead? I'll probably never know for sure. Maybe I'm just not meant to know . . .

Nostalgia. Sorry. I'm getting off track again. Rest assured, that won't happen anymore.

So, what does all this amount to, you're probably wondering? I guess it all provides a common frame of reference, a little something to prepare you for the story that's coming. You'll dismiss it at first. I have trouble believing it myself sometimes. Of course, flying continents and a companion that came from the gullet of a trench worm didn't exactly go over well with all those Maranda-born historians, either.

So, I ask you, my Journal, or whomever it is that happens to come across this account some day, to bear with me. I'm no storyweaver. Far from it, in fact. I'm a Magitek Knight.

My name is Celes Chere - and this is my tall tale . . .

* * *

I suppose the whole fiasco really started with a routine of transferring some of the remnants of Old Vector to Figaro Castle. Quite a popular profession these days. I guess, I was still looking for some kind of place in the world, and I wasn't about to sell my soul as a mercenary for hire. The world wasn't big enough to handle 'two' Shadow's!

But it wasn't thankless work, not in the least. I had Edgar and Sabin backing me, two of the best friends a reformed Imperial could ask for. There had been some serious misgivings between Figaro and the Empire during the Esper Years. Fortunately, the good brothers of Figaro not only had the common sense to let bygones be bygones, but also offered me accomodations in their castle.

I'm glad some things never change.

It wasn't an easy expedition that one afternoon, however. The ruins of the late Empire lay deep within the bowls of the Phoenix Mountains. Without an airship to get there, the pilgrimage proved exceedingly difficult. Mountain climbing seemed to be our only option, although transport of the Imperial equipment would, at that juncture, be next to impossible. Thankfully, we came across a Returner faction at the base of a western hillock.

We were not, at first, met with arms wide open. My party came by way of chocobos and the Returners were on foot. So, right from the start, there was a clear division of power. Never a good sign when you were faced with the Returners, who fought for equality. Many had already secured cams to the foot of the slope and were preparing to scale the mountain. The better part of them were simply standing at the ready, making absolute certain that their endeavor would go unnoticed.

Being the head of this particular expedition, I was the one addressed first. "Halt!" came the gruff voice of a burly Returner, undoubtably the leader. I allowed for my group to stop. "These mountains are off-limits to non-Returner factions! State your business, here!"

I reigned my beast back a pace before answering. "We come under the orders of King Edgar Roni Figaro! Our business is that of the king's and no one else's."

The Returner paused for a moment, as if to digest what it was I had said. "These caverns are not in the dominions of Figaro! Surely you know, Old Vector lies within!"

"Indeed," I said, "but we come under extenuating circumstances."

He snorted with contempt. "And what might they be?"

"I was once a Magitek Knight."

The others of his party stopped what they were doing and eyed me with both awe and dismay. It was as if they had all just awoken from a bad dream. Since the Ruination, rivalry had increased tremendously between Figaro and the Returners, for it was believed that many innocent people died as a result of the king's so-called idleness. Now, with all their eyes like swords upon me, I was almost certain that a skirmish was going to ensue.

Instead, the leader jutted his chin in my direction. "You lie!" he said.

"You want proof?"

Without waiting for a reply, I dismounted from my chocobo and approached him. Lifting the bangle around my wrist, I gave them all a view of the insignia which had been branded into my skin as a child. It had been the mark of Vector once, one that most often appears in the history books as a fragmented seven etched in blood.

"Are you satisfied?"

I can't be sure, but his eyes almost suggested sympathy for me.

He quilled his pacificism by again questioning our presence there. I asked why. "As a sign of good faith," he replied, "Figaro and the Returners had been allies once. It would be nice to be able to trust King Edgar again, even after all this time."

It seemed like a fair request.

"It is His Majesty's request that we excavate the site of Old Vector, so that we might provide a basis for which magitechnology disappeared and if it can be resuscitated for practical purposes."

He nodded. "I see. So, you wish to repeat a very senseless and deadly mistake, do you not? And what illness has befallen the king that he would send you out on such a pilgrimage?" 

"I have never questioned the king's requests before, sir. I owe him a great deal for all he has given me. Besides, he would never do anything to jeopardize the peace we have since found."

"How can we be sure of that?"

"All we're asking is that you trust us," I said, "as you did before the Ruination."

A sigh escaped him, one that seemed to last a small eternity. When it elapsed, he instructed his men to accommodate my own for the excavation at hand. A small victory, if ever there was one. Imperials, after all, had been sworn enemies of Banon and his Returner factions for as long as I can remember. Perhaps this is a day worth noting in my entries, a day in which old enemies had finally laid their arms to rest.

But how long it would stay that way was anybody's guess.

* * *

The minutes became hours. Days fostered into a week. Some days lagged on for what seemed like months; others passed us by without warning. At the very least, the weather held out. Every so often, an evening would be marked with heavy rains, making the already treacherous footing next to impossible to scale with any degree of certainty. But for the most part, conditions were dry enough for me and my cohorts to complete our work. 

Pinpointing the various pieces of equipment was the easy part. Vector was, more or less, only a few hundred feet below ground level. What I gathered from the Returners, the city had been hammered through the mantel like a railroad spike when the Flying Continent rained down on top of it. Needless to say, the outer fringes of the town were decimated. Surprisingly, however, the main infrastructure of Vector remained intact.

The hard part arose when we had to transport the machines out of the caverns and over the walls of rock. The Ruination had thoroughly crippled the refinery's network of hallways. Many were pushed into contradictions so severe that they actually twisted in upon themselves so that the ceiling became the floor and vice versa. If this wasn't bad enough, as you well know, the Phoenix mountain range is a ring of pure granite, two hundred feet high in every direction.

Hence, what had originally been assumed to be a six-day mission turned into a three-week crusade as we went scouring the caves for enough dross to construct a crude pulley system. It was an idea that had occurred to one of my envoys one night while we all sat around a campfire. A crane with lifting straps that we could assemble at the zenith of the Phoenix range would help give us the edge we needed to pick up and lower our equipment safely to the ground outside.

Things went slower than I expected. Most of the Old Vector ruins were beyond salvageable and those that were wouldn't be likely to stand up to weights that were well over a ton and a half each. I knew these machines well. They were not designed to be ferried from one place to the next. They each were large, cast-iron structures of varying shapes and sizes. Some had the appearance of boilers, others were view screens with a near-infinite web of cables snaking out of rusted conduits.

Luckily, our Returner brethren were beyond impressed from the sheer complexity and grandeur of Old Vector to weasel out. "I'll say this much, general . . ." said my Returner frontman, who, by that time, had introduced himself as Livy. "You Imperials certainly were a smart bunch to craft such remarkable machines! How many hands will you be needing?"

"First of all, call me Celes," I replied. "Secondly, I'll be requiring all of your men. Half will need to set up a load-bearing structure on that knoll-" I gestured to the south, "-and the rest will have to help me do some reconfiguring on one of Kefka's little mementos."

"Mementos?" he asked.

"Come with me." I led him, for a moment, away from his tent and over to a large hydraulic arm which we had exhumed earlier that day. "It's one of two," I said, "a little something Kefka once used to try and pluck the gambler's airship out of the skies."

"You think it's going to be up to the task?"

I shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."

And find out we did, after enough time passed that is. As I mentioned before, excavation time was slow time, and it didn't go any faster when the task called for a little elbow grease. The arm must have weighed well over a ton. It took an entire day just to condition it for the job.

The only real thing to look forward to were the nights. Livy and his factions were always the first to pitch their tents of course, just before dusk. That way, they could get the best plots of land before anyone else. A few even resorted to staking the mountainside with their claims. My men would remind me that, it was just more convenient for those constructing the crane if they stationed themselves closer to the summit. I thought they were doing it just to ignore us.

All things considered, however, the nights were quiet. That's what I desire the most, you see: solitude. It's always given me a chance to evaluate the events of a day so that tomorrow could be as equally productive, if not more so. I also took those opportunities to brush up on the messages I sent Edgar periodically to inform him of my progress. Nothing too fancy, maybe three or four line on tattered vellum. Brevity had been a shortcoming of mine back then:

Day 1. Dropped anchor in Tzen at first light. Provisions made available in town marketplace. Gil consumption: 1,100. Started out for Phoenix Mountain at 1300 hours.

Day 4. Arrived at Phoenix Mountain. Encounter with Returner contingent was imminent but settled without prejudice. Excavation of Old Vector began at dusk.

Week 2, Day 2. Excavation was successful. However, construction of adequate crane and pulley system will take an additional few weeks. New developments to come...

Edgar had never been a fusy man, at least not with me. All of his men adhered to a very strict code of conduct, particularly when it came to giving reports. Old friends, like myself, must have been exempt from such policies. I was glad, not for being free of his rules, but for his understanding that I already had my share of rigid protocol from the Empire. 

By the end of week four, I was beginning to tire from a most insufferable routine. Raking the caves for resources, sending off carrier pigeons, supervising crane construction, even ordering others around became redundant after awhile. It got to the point in which I consciously had to instruct myself what to do. Left foot. Right foot. Go to sleep. Wake up. The skies burn your face one day, then try to drown you with rain the next. Would it ever end?

"Still a paragon even after all these years, aye general?" I took Livy's tone as provocation. His vendetta against the Empire had, on many occasions, tempted me to slug the bastard. "Let's just hope that this outfit of yours works."

"You mean, this outfit of 'ours'." I constantly had to remind him that we were all in this together. "And rest assured, it will. Remember, I want to get out of this hole just as much as you do, if not more so."

"Of course."

"I'm glad we understand each other, Livy. Now, come with me for a moment. There's something I'd like you to have." I led him back to my tent, which I had cleared out the night before in anticipation of our departure. Digging through one of my dufflebags, it took me only a minute to find it: a dog-eared tome bearing the emblem of the Empire. "Here. I dug this up from the archives yesterday. Perhaps Banon will appreciate its contents."

"Is this what I think it is?" he asked.

"I should think so. This book contains all 112 of the theses which Gestahl himself wrote regarding his power over Vector. There may be use for it among the Returners, who battle for equally as opposed to 'absolute authority'."

There was a brief moment of silence between us. I could tell he was thankful; thankful for our alliance, and thankful for a sign of good fellowship with which to conclude our expedition.

"Rest assured, Celes, that your assistance and cooperation will not soon be forgotten by the Returners." He held a hand out before me. "May your trek back be free of incident."

"And yours as well," I said, accepting his gesture.

Less than an hour later, our big moment came. No contrivance of the Empire had ever succeeded in its first test run. Needless to say, ours was no acception. But both Returners and Figaro showed remarkable resilience and prowess on that fated day. Thankfully, none of our setbacks were the result of structural defects, only miscalculations regarding speed and wind resistance, all of which were resolved with an equal distribution of men both inside and outside the mountain range.

We weren't exactly breaking any airspeed records, but by sunset the package had been set safely down at the foot of the mountain, where our task had begun some four weeks earlier. With the artifacts then safely consigned and canopied upon our caravans, Returner and Figaro soldier alike could at last breathe easy.

Our mission had been accomplished.

"Not a bad four weeks too long, if you ask me!" Livy remarked. I remembered feeling somewhat uneasy about parting ways from this man and his fellow faction, as if the alliance we had achieved would not be a lengthy one. "Well then, general, if there is nothing else, then we shall take our leave."

"A minute, if you please." I was suddenly reminded of the letter burning a hole in my back pocket and pulled it out to give to him. "If you'd be so kind as to pass this on to the one among you named Locke Cole, I'd be most grateful."

With a quick smile, he took my letter and stowed it safely within his breast pocket. "How could I not, after all you've done for us?"

"Stay well," I told him.

"You, too." 

With that said and done, I was quick to rein the beasts of our head caravan. The evening was young, and there was still the task of making Tzen before dark.

* * *

The trip back to Figaro Castle took almost three days, two days longer than it took to reach the Phoenix Cave. The equipment we had unearthed back in Old Vector slowed our progress considerably and Tzen's transition from a town to a port never made the going any easier. Several freighter trips were required to get everything across the ocean. Needless to say, my men and I were broke by the time we had returned to the Figaro continent.

Now, it had long occurred to me and my group that the chances of us being rained on were few and far between in the Figaro desert of all places. So, you can imagine our surprise when a downpour caught us off guard half a mile short of the castle. There was talk of a storm in the desert being an omen of some type, though I would hear no such drivel with our trek so close to being finished.

"That's very impressive!" I said to the chancellor, a mere stone's throw short of the entryway. Through some brand of technology that eludes me even now, Edgar had somehow managed to erect a heat shield around his kingdom, turning the torrents of rain into fleeting wisps of water vapor. It was, undoubtably, his way of sparing the steam-driven devices that adorned the exterior of his palace. "I never thought such an exploit possible, even for Edgar!"

"The same could be said about you," he replied, motioning to the long and weary flank of men that trailed behind me. "Should I take their languid manner as any indication of success?"

"I guess you could say that."

Having heard this, the chancellor clapped his hands together with delight, splashing water in my face in the process. "Splendid! You've done an excellent job, general! Have your men come inside! Beds and warm meals await you all!"

His regal robes now unknotted, the chancellor skirted back up the foyer and into the castle, almost stumbling in his haste to deliver the good news to Edgar. I sighed and informed them all that their journey had ended, who showed their gratitude by almost knocking me over in a mad dash to get their hands on a homecooked meal. Bunch of ingrates . . .

"Celes!" came a voice from within.

I knew who it was before even venturing to set foot inside the castle, though it wasn't Edgar or Sabin, whom I had originally expected upon returning. Nevertheless, to find him there waiting for me was perhaps the most wonderful surprise I had been given in a long time . . .

"Locke!"

He had been sporting a different color of bandana around his head (faded blue to jaded green). But other than this, he appeared more or less the same: that same coat of trailworn leather; those same pantaloons; all those dirks and lock-picking devices lining his belt. Five years had been nice to him and I was more than happy to find him embracing me rather than settling for a handshake.

"It's been awhile!" he said. "I got your letter!"

"You did?" I felt like a chocobo caught in the headlights. How many times had I wanted to revise all those things I said to him? I didn't want him to take it the wrong way. "Well, I suppose there were times when I felt our expedition would never end. It's been a grueling four weeks for me."

He nodded with genuine sympathy. "I know. Livy told me all about it. A lot can be said about his clarity, though. I had actually been hoping to get the whole story from you, perhaps this evening at dinner?"

I shrugged. "Can't see why not."

I began to say something else but by around that time, Edgar and his brother finally got around to joining us. Watching as they both descended the extravagant staircase of Figaro, it occurred to me that they hadn't changed a whole lot, either. Edgar was a little less womanizing, though only by a very small margin, and while Sabin had long since shucked the bodybuilder attire for the maroon threads and gold trim of royalty, they still appeared more alike than they ever had before.

"Why, Locke! You old son of a bitch, you! How long has it been?" The king reached out and gave him an almost vicious handshake with Sabin following close behind. "Well, it would appear that we have ourselves a little bit of a reunion, here! How's about we have Mr. Gabianni pick up Terra and the rest of 'em and have a little gathering for ourselves?"

I gave him a weak smile. I must have been the only one in the room at that moment who wasn't looking forward to a get-together.

"It isn't that big a deal, Edgar," I told him.

"Like fish, it isn't!" Clapping his arms around Locke and I, we proceeded back up the staircase. "Figaro and the Returners haven't seen eye-to-eye with one another since the reign of Gestahl almost six years ago. But now, with no Empire to obstruct us this time around, this may very well be our chance at peace."

Again, the fake smile. "If you say so," I said.

* * *

If there was anything that Edgar was good at, other than machines, it was celebrations. Somehow, in the short span of a single day, he was able to reach them all, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't good to see all those old but friendly faces. Handshake, after hug, after success story, after marriage proposal, it all became commonplace as we ruminated on the old days over warm food and smiling faces.

But it wasn't the same. My routine, my identity, my very life had died with the Empire. My being in this world felt out of place; it was nothing like the way things had been when I was still a Magitek Knight. I tried rationalizing by thinking that, I was still tired from the expedition, that tomorrow I'd probably find myself going to Edgar, insisting that he host another of these pointless get-togethers.

How I wished they would all just go away.

"You know, you've been musing over that drink since the festivities first started."

I tried my absolute best to ignore him, then I remembered just how bloody persistant the Wandering Gambler was!

"No, I haven't," I replied, curious as to why the bubbles in my glass had stopped effervescing. "I was just . . . thinking, that's all."

"Anything you'd care to share with an old friend? Don't let the gray hair fool you, Cel! I've often been told that I'm a good listener."

I allowed for my eyes to wander a bit before answering. From somewhere in the background, an upbeat rhythm of woodwinds and handmade tomtoms swept everyone away in a tide of frivolity. I can still picture Relm and Mog dancing up a storm while all the others clapped along with the music.

"Setzer, ever since that flight school of yours opened up, you never once used your airship. Doesn't it ever make you feel that . . . you've probably used up your usefulness?"

His reply was almost instant.

"Not for a second."

"Could I be so bold as to ask why not?"

"Because learning the ways of the skies is one thing, but getting the opportunity to share my experiences and to teach all those promising young pupils what I know is quite another. When Kefka's reign ended, it was a new beginning for me, just like it was for everyone else, and I must say, my school has given me a real sense of purpose when I'm reminded of the impact I've made on all those who look up to me."

Having heard this much, I was finally able to throw back my now-sour drink. "It must be a nice feeling," I said to him.

"You know, I bet you'd make a good teacher."

I couldn't help but scoff.

"At what? Airships?"

"No. Diplomacy."

"Diplomacy. Gee, that's great."

"I mean it, Celes. After all, you did do a good job in making those Returners listen to reason back at the Phoenix Cave. You should think about it."

I assured him I would, suddenly remembering how tired I was. "I think I'll go and turn in early. It's been real nice to talk with you again, Setzer."

"Sure you wouldn't want another spin on the Falcon for old time's sake? There's nothing quite like a night above the clouds when the moon's full."

I couldn't help but give him points for effort. "No, thanks. It's been four weeks since I slept on a nice, soft bed. I'm not about to prolong the experience."

With that, we kissed and said our goodbyes so that I could turn in early. The din of old friends and loud music chased after me all the way back to my room. As fate would have it, my room was nestled directly across from the basement laboratory where Edgar had chosen to store the Old Vector machinery. Being the artificer he was, he typically had the habit of burning the midnight oil in that room of his, keeping me awake with his meddling even when he promised to stay quiet. That wouldn't be happening tonight, though.

With enough luck, he'd be too busy with old friends to fret over new inventions.

* * *

An inexpressible comfort found me when I had finally returned to my quarters, comfort which assumed many subtle but practical forms. For one thing, there were no toothy-grinned colleagues or a Figaro knight waiting for me. There was also the realization that, with the expedition completed, there would be plenty of time for me to work on my memoirs. [Spare me your sympathy, now. I know how sad it is to peak at twenty-three, but I'm no one's charity case!]

Which brings me to the third of my then-newfound comforts: a good old-fashioned bubble bath. Granted, I already had one prior to Edgar's little function, but they always seem to have a more rejuvenating effect at the 'end' of one's busy day. If you were to ask me now, I'd never be able to tell you how soothing it was to slip into that tub of water and let it take away the strain of a very turbulent four weeks.

A warm place with no memory.

I felt like never putting my clothes on again . . .

But of course, a knock at the door stirred me from this revel, ruining everything. Thank-you very much, Terra.

"Celes?"

"I'm coming, Terra." What? Are you kidding? Tell her to go away! Is that really so hard? "Just give me a minute! I'm undressed!"

Grudgingly, I pulled myself from the tub and threw on a robe, somehow thinking that Terra's reason for visiting was a trivial one. Pulling the door ajar, I picked up on something about her in the glow of my lamp that I hadn't earlier that evening.

It must have been her smile.

It struck me as funny at first. Our esper girl, one who had been subject to almost every hardship and injustice imaginable, had somehow managed to succeed where I had failed: she had found a place for herself in the Here and Now. Gone was her gaunt frame and tragic expression; she was healthy now, and robust, and (dare I say it) beautiful.

Then again, she was hardly an esper girl anymore.

I tried my absolute best to sound surprised. "Hi, Terra!"

"Long time, no see, Cel!"

Nope, no esper girl here.

"I'm sorry," she added, "I didn't mean to disturb you. It's just that, we never got a chance to talk earlier."

"I guess 'I' should be the one apologizing." Though I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into my bathtub, I guess the power of friendship, at least right then and there, proved too strong to ignore. "Please come in!"

There was an urge to ask who it was that had tailored her attire for the celebration. Instead of an Imperial garb, she had elected to put on a snug bodice, one with a very sober hue of lavender. Shoulder-length sleeves with extended lace ruffles almost made her appear overdressed for the occasion, as if she were chancing some kind of Maria motif.

"That's quite the outfit you're wearing."

There was a chuckle as she adjusted her elbow-length gloves. "I know what you're thinking, and you're right. It 'is' a bit extravagant, but Navarin insisted that I make a good impression on Edgar and Sabin."

"Navarin?"

"Yeah, my fiancé."

I couldn't believe it! The esper girl was going to get married before me, and knowing that would depress me even more so than before.

"Congratulations."

It was a forced compliment, but it would have to do.

"You know, Cel, the whole relationship thing really isn't so bad once you give it a try. How are things going between you and Locke?"

"Going?"

"Well, yeah."

"To be honest, today was the first time I've seen him in over two years."

"Oh." I wished for the subject to change, but it was obvious that Terra would do nothing of the sort. "Well, a little birdie whispered in my ear that, Locke will be going on an expedition of his own soon. Why don't you go with him?"

"Terra, did Setzer put you up to this?"

A pause.

"Put me up to what?"

"Don't lie to me, Terra. We've been friends long before any of the others came along."

"I know that!" And suddenly, there was a more sharp determination in her voice. "And I've also been your friend long enough to know when you have separation anxiety."

"I don't have separation anxiety!" I slumped down on my bed. "I have 'Celes-can't-find-a-foothold-in-the-present' anxiety."

"Cel . . ." She place a comforting arm on my shoulder. "You have to let this Empire thing go. They've been dead for over six years."

"But I'm not, Terra. That's what makes it so difficult. No matter where I go or what I do, I just won't find a place around here."

"But the rest of us did," she said, standing to leave, "why can't you?"

Nothing more was said between us that night, nor was anything else necessary. She was right, after all. The others had managed to leave the past behind them, regardless of whatever demon it was that had once pained them. Terra's closing remarks left me torn between going back to the festivities and sinking back into a bathtub of water that was quickly growing cold.

But after much thought, I once more chose the latter.

Who needed 'them' anyway?

* * *

Things remained uneventful for a long time thereafter, which was just what I had hoped for. In the course of that one fleeting instant which followed Terra's abrupt departure, I remember feeling hesitant, even guilty. Maybe I was distancing myself from the others more than I actually needed to. Nevertheless, it was my own demon to deal with, not Terra's or anyone else's. It made me angry thinking about what lengths the others would go to just to help me with these problems of mine.

My friends, however, would soon become the least of my worries . . .

"Hello?"

For the second time that night my bath was interrupted, only this time it wasn't some old friend entreating entrance at my chamber door. Rather, it was a visitor who chose to remain anonymous. Beyond, I could hear the sounds of feet plodding across the stone floor of my room. Despite myself, I bolted upright in the tub, not entirely certain who or what to expect.

"Hey! Who's out there?!"

There was no way I could have been mistaken. I could see the shadow of my intruder whisking across the far wall of my chamber. Not long after, the sound of a door being opened and closed followed. Whomever it was, they must have been in my room the entire time.

"Hey!!"

That did it. Enough was enough! Leaping out of the tub, I threw on a tunic, hopped into an old pair of breeches, and went out into the room, hunting for my Runic Blade. If there was anything I hated more than being kept from my bath, it was dealing with a peeping tom. Did they really have any idea who I was?

"Fine!" I said. "Be ignorant! It'll make it all the more easier for me to hack you into a million-"

To say that I froze in my tracks would be an overstatement, because the first thing that caught my eye beyond my quarters was what a Figaro sentry was doing, or rather, what he wasn't doing . . .

He never spoke, he didn't move, and on closer inspection I discovered that he didn't even have a pulse. Yet his eyes were open and he was still on his feet, apparently full of life. It was as if he had withdrawn from reality completely. Stealing a glance up along a tenement stairwell, I found another sentry in much the same condition. I even chanced to take a look over the balcony and down at the castle furnace. Not a single gyro was moving, even its vaporous emissions seemed to be frozen in the air above it.

It was as if all of time was standing still.

I didn't quite know why, but I kept expecting to wake up, as if it were all just a bad dream. Then a ruckus pulled me back to the Land of the Living, one that was emanating from that same insufferable storeroom of Edgar's. I had a hunch that whatever was going on, this spy was responsible for, and for the sake of Figaro I had to figure out what it was.

Silently, so as to not attract any attention from my intruder, I nudged the door open, one inch at a time. Her back was turned to me - yes, definitely a woman, although where she came from I could only speculate. Her garments were odd, almost boyish. She wore what looked like a white tunic beneath a pair of blue overalls that trailed off to a skirt of dark scarlet. A bright red cape hung down around her shoulders and white stockings went up to her knees. Neither the ritzy style of Jidoor nor the classic hopelessness of Mobliz. There was no putting my finger on it.

And what was this? Blue hair? Pointed ears? The buzzing and whirring of all kinds of devices that were anyone's but Edgar's? Something was definitely amiss now, and I began to reevaluate my original suspicions of this sleuth being from another world entirely. Her search was frantic, as though she were looking for a bomb that could go off at any minute.

"Come on! Come on!" she cursed in an adolescent tone. "Where are you?!"

"Let me guess," I replied, leveling my Runic Blade, "spring cleaning?"

The young girl reacted almost immediately, pivoting on one of her heels and making a motion to draw a weapon of her own.

"Don't! Anything you pull on me, you're gonna lose!"

She seemed to grasp this, and defeatedly she withdrew.

"How is it," she said, "that you can move in my time frame?"

"I'm the one asking the questions," I told her.

"I don't mean you any harm," she assured me, "nor anyone else in this castle."

Needless to say, I wasn't convinced.

"You're gonna sit down," I growled, "you're going to tell me everything I want to know, and then you're going to break whatever spell it is that you put on Figaro. Is that clear?"

With a nod, she seated herself and proceeded to tell me the story that would change my life forever . . .


	2. Astronomy

Most of what the young woman told me went in one ear and out the other. It was either Expel this or Sorcery Globe that. All of it came out as a ramble, since the time she spent talking with me was time being taken away from her frantic search. At the very least, her name - Rena Lanford - was enough to get my attention, chiefly because it held a strange likeness with Terra's birth name. Strange hair. Lanford and Branford. Coincidence?

"If you're referring to the woman whom you spoke with in your room earlier," she replied, "I assure you we're not related."

"No argument there," I told her, "Terra has the common courtesy to knock."

She sighed irritably.

"Now, what exactly is it that you're looking for down here?"

"Heraldry," she said, sounding more worried than ever.

"Heraldry?" It was probably the only other part of her account that I had bothered to listen to, since Heraldry was the Expellian equivalent of magic. "Well, you're about five years too late. All forms of magic left with the espers."

"By your narrow definition, perhaps." Her attempt to assert herself verbally prompted me to hold my sword an inch or two closer to her jugular. She swallowed hard. "Our scans of this planet, however, have revealed that Heraldry still exists."

I squinted at her. "Planet? What are you talking about?"

This I asked as she glared down at another of the many trinkets on her belt. After a series of harsh sounds, she switched the device off and stared back up at me, her expression trapped between amazement and fear.

"I'm sorry, Celes," she said.

"What do you mean, 'sorry'? And how did you know my-"

"Star Flare!!" she cried.

And all at once, I felt myself fly backwards through the chamber door, smashing it to splinters. The blast hit me with all the force of a comet, driving the wind from my lungs and filling the whole world with fire. Never in all my crazy encounters, not even when I had fought Kefka, had I experienced something so powerful, so dreadful . . .

I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew I was lying face up on a medical stretcher, straining to recognize all types of arcane sounds filling the background. My eyes wandered for what seemed like forever, yet I could find nothing indigenous to Figaro Castle. Everything was so metallic, like something out of a Magitek refinery. There was also an unfamiliar droning sound that seemed to come from all around me.

"Tru cleesa cu rabba tzu."

That voice. That nettlesome voice! Rena! Oh, how I wanted to kill that bitch for what she did! On impulse, I moved to sit up when my head began to spin, forcing me to lie back and wait for it to stop. When it did, the sounds around me began to change from a rapid, pulsating tempo to a much more controlled pace. Vital signs, I concluded. They must have hooked me up to something. But it couldn't have been anything Figaro in origin.

Was I somewhere else?

"Ouc taba creba ca?" said a voice, masculine and coming toward me.

"What?" I struggled to sit. A handsome, brown-haired man in a labcoat helped me up off the stretcher. "Uh, I'm sorry. I can't understand you."

"Ouc drek." He began to fiddle with a device on his belt, one that was almost identical to a contraption of Rena's. "Also. Wie geht es Ihnen?"

Again, I shook my head. "Uh, no capische."

"No capische," he said confused, and gave the apparatus one last tuning. "Okay, how about now? Can you understand me?"

I blinked.

"Uhh, yeah," I said intelligently. "So, you 'do' speak my language."

"Actually, you're still speaking your own." He patted his gadget proudly. "You see, this is what we call a 'universal translator'. Noel invented them. They allows us to communicate with species not indigenous to our homeworld."

"Homeworld?" I paused for a minute to let his words sink in. "Then, you really 'aren't' from my world, are you?"

"We're not even native to your solar system."

I turned just in time to see the medical bay doors whir shut behind Rena as she entered to join us. Nothing would have thrilled me more greatly than to throttle her.

"You!" I said.

"Yes," she replied frankly, "it's me. How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I feel?" I growled at her. She took a step back. "I oughta pound you! You nailed me with a . . . with a . . ."

"Star Flare," she finished with a grin. "Anyway, you didn't give me much of a choice. You weren't exactly being cooperative."

The one in the labcoat must have assumed that we would probably be arguing for a while, since he decided to busy himself with an unrelated task elsewhere in the room.

"I have cause to be uncooperative when I find others hunting for something that doesn't belong to them."

"In this case," said Rena, "it's someone, not something."

"Someone?" I squinted at her. "You mean . . . me?"

"That's right." She sat down on the stretcher across from mine. "As I mentioned before, we've come to your planet looking for Heraldry or, as your people call it, magic. But it was only after my proximity alarm went off that I realized 'you' were the source of Heraldry we had been looking for all along. That probably explains why you were still mobile in our time frame."

I allowed for an instant to let the new information settle, then said, "But that isn't possible. Magic has been gone from our world for more than half a decade."

"Not so. We gathered from our database that, at the peak of your Industrial Age, there was a hierarchy called 'The Empire'. They were known for fusing magic with technology, something you dubbed 'Magitek', and in some cases those experiments entailed human subjects. You were one of them, were you not?"

Despite myself, I swallowed. "You know me too well."

"It was never our intention to know you at all," she said, fidgeting on the stretcher. "You just kind of fell into our resource gathering. But now that you're here, we need all the help we can get."

  
  


"What for?"

She smiled, but it was weak. "I'll try my best to answer all of your questions, but only if you promise not to garrote me first."

I remember hearing a chuckle, though I couldn't be sure if it was mine or hers. "You have my undivided attention, Rena. What is it you're trying to do?"

"We're trying to save the galaxy."

Surprise, surprise.

* * *

"I'll do my best to orient you with the crew and surroundings. Having spent most of your life with the Empire, you'll probably find it a walk in the park."

I didn't know whether to feel proud or insulted. Rena and I had both left the medical bay only a few minutes earlier, and she had already begun to alienate me with my history as a Magitek Knight.

"Most of the people you'll find on this ship are native to Expel. You've already met Dr. Jean Bowman, our chief physician. Sadly enough, all that remain of our kind are on this ship. But like everyone else out there, we all fight to honor the memory of the homes we've lost. You could say that it's kind of made us into a family."

A lump caught in my throat when she said 'lost', and I stopped our walk in the corridor. "What do you mean by lost? What happened to your world?"

"The same thing that will happen to your world," she said gravely, "unless you can help us prevent it."

"I need more info than that."

"We only have bits and pieces of information ourselves, Celes." She stopped to collect her thoughts before continuing. "What I can tell you is that, our mission begins with one man. His name is Indalecio, one of ten who sought to control not only our home but all the cosmos as well. There was a time when I believed that my friends and I had defeated him. But we were wrong, and we lost our home because of it. Now, he seeks to erase our very being from history."

Rena stopped to find her breath. Then, she went on.

"This man has all of time at his disposal because of technology we were responsible for creating. He travels further and further into the past to try and find us because he knows that we are the galaxy's only hope. Thousands of worlds have been destroyed in his wake. Spira, Hyrule, Filgaia, beautiful places. Billions of lives have been lost, some my closest friends . . ."

She couldn't help but trail off. Painful memories had begun to surface on her face.

"Well, we have every hope that defeating him here, in the past, will wipe him out before he ever has a chance to destroy those worlds and their people. This is what has kept our crew together for so long. We may yet see our loved ones again if we truly believe it."

We continued our walk through the vast ship. Her words jarred me, rendering me incapable of speech for a good ten minutes or more. I couldn't help but muse over an adversary that powerful. Could it be that I might soon be coping with the undoing of my home, too?

Somehow, our stroll through the ship managed to keep a lot of my fears at bay. It had a stout crew, apparently bustling with activity. The ship's many corridors seemed to trail off for miles on end, long and dimly lit tunnels complete with the white noise of preparation from its many crew members. I suppose it made me feel secure, if only for a little while.

  
  


"You must forgive me," she said suddenly. "I was expecting to find a crystal, or a staff. A person was the last thing I was anticipating. But perhaps this is better. A personification of magic, one who can bring order to a universe in chaos."

"I wouldn't go that far," I told her, "I can barely sort my own life out, let alone that of the universe. And all this is . . . well, quite overwhelming."

"I know. I'm sorry. The last thing I'd want to do is overwhelm you at such a vital juncture of our mission. I'll arrange some quarters for you, then. You must be very tired."

"What happens then?" I asked her. "Where will this mission take us?"

"To a distant planet," she answered, "to Rezonia, where our last stand begins."

* * *

Farfetched yet? I thought so. This isn't to say I'm done though, not by a long shot. There's still a universe to save, after all. I can't imagine how crazy that must sound! If someone were to say that they were on their way to save a colony or small nation from slavery, one would think 'My, that's extraordinary!'. But for one to say that they were on their way to save the entire stellar universe was just . . . well, stupid.

Apparently, for people like Rena and her friends, saving the universe was anything but. Missions such as these they embarked upon on a daily basis: traveling to distant worlds; making first contact with alien species; gathering forces strong enough to rival the last of the Ten Wise Men. It was a quest beyond Kefka, beyond esperkind even. The adventure of a lifetime!

If only my friends could see me now, I thought.

Our ship, the Calnus, was a wonder beyond belief. Every corridor, every bulkhead, every control panel seem to hum or coalesce with a life of its own, a million ingeniously laid components working together as a whole. Stylish as well as functional, the vessel was crafted much like a gigantic airship, complete with almost three hundred fully furnished rooms to accommodate its crew. The ship was so big that I almost got lost on my first day aboard.

"It's bound to happen once or twice," Rena explained while she and I were on our way to see the Admiral. "It happened to me too when I first came aboard."

"I feel so much better, now."

Which was true, of course. Even a seasoned veteran like Rena had trouble adjusting when first departing on her tall-tale journey. It meant that there was still hope for me.

"So, why does this 'Admiral' wish to see us? Is it just to meet me, or does it have to do with these Rezonian folk?"

"A little of both, perhaps." We stopped at the end of our corridor, where Rena pressed a control that eased open a set of metal doors for us. We both stepped into a small booth as she gave the command for 'main deck'. "He never mentioned it to me, either. Just let me do all the talking. He's very impersonal."

"If you say so. Who am I to . . . oh, uh . . ."

I suddenly realized that decks were racing past us in a matter of seconds. After that, it was all stars and planets flying by the ship in the blink of an eye.

"I . . . I think I'm going to be sick," I muttered, having a strange feeling come over me.

"Don't worry," Rena replied, "It's bound to happen sooner or later. You're just not used to the space travel, that's all. The feeling's superficial, though. It doesn't even last long."

  
  


"Well, that's a relief." But of course, her words were a dull comfort. "So, does this, mmm, Admiral have a name?"

She grunted. "Ronixis J. Kenni. He's native to a planet called Earth, which was where the Calnus was first commissioned."

"Does it still exist?"

Rena hesitated. "No."

"It must have been hard for him - for all of you."

She turned to face me. "The important thing is that, he hasn't lost his objectivity. He's gotten this family through a lot of tough times. I don't know where we'd all be if it wasn't for him. One day, 'you' may find yourself thanking him."

I tried my best to change a grim subject. "He must be a wizened old man."

"Yes," she said, "he knows more about us than we do."

"So, he knows everything about you too, hmm?"

"That's right."

"Knows when you had your first tooth..."

"Mmm-hmm."

"...your first kiss..."

She sighed.

"...your first-"

"We're here!" she growled.

I stifled a laugh as our lift ground to a halt. But no sooner did the doors part before me did my humor turn to sheer amazement all over again. The main deck, as Rena had called it, was beyond anything the lower decks could have shown me. The main nerve center of our vessel, the bridge was an elaborate chamber filled with blue light, holographic starcharts, and dozens of senior officers scuttling from one station to the next, no doubt conducting their endless resource gathering and keeping tabs on stellar phenomena.

"This is quite an operation you have," I remarked, and suddenly realized that I was talking to no one. "Hey, wait up!"

Already halfway down the stairs to the dais, Rena replied without turning, "Our only hope is that this 'operation' is enough to finish off Indalecio."

We walked down around the main viewing globe, where a seemingly endless array of planets and star systems danced endlessly about. Rena acknowledged none of her colleagues, save the odd nod of a head. Indalecio's name floated from one part of the bridge to the next. Many appeared at wit's end trying to find a more effective means of escaping the 'inescapable'.

"Time is always against us," Rena went on to say. "Every day that passes is another day that Indalecio gets closer to destroying everything we've accomplished."

"You're starting to sound like a broken record," I told her.

Rena grunted. "Well, it just seems important to stress, that's all. We can't afford to make any errors in judgement, not when we're this close to succeeding."

  
  


I nodded. "So, where to now?"

"This way." She pointed out a door with 'Ready Room' labeled on it. The doors parted with a whir and we both entered.

The first thing I saw was a middle-aged man with his back turned to us, apparently gazing out at the stars. He wore a dark uniform lined with gold and had gray hair cropped out around his hat. Even after the door slid closed behind us, the man's view remained fixed on the stars that passed the Calnus by.

"Admiral," Rena finally said, "I'd like you to meet Celes Chere. She's a resident from the M-Class planet in spatial grid 532 and, as it turns out, the source of the Heraldry we were scanning for all along."

I took a step towards him. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir."

But he remained as still as a mannequin. From what I could make out of his reflection, the Admiral was bearded with a face that was creased with stress. There was something foreboding in his expression as well, something that pained him greatly.

"Admiral?"

He took a deep breath before finally turning around. "My apologies, Ms. Chere," he answered. "I had hoped for our first meeting to be a happy occasion, even hopeful. But unfortunately, something terrible has happened."

Though his voice was directed at me, his eyes wandered to Rena. Her disposition changed in a heartbeat.

"What is it, Admiral? Does it have anything to do with our survey team?"

He nodded and took another deep breath. "They were met with a Rezonian raiding party en route to Rezonia. They were taken by surprise and they-"

It didn't seem like the Admiral would get much else out. I looked over to Rena, who was quickly crumbling from the new information.

"Claude?"

The Admiral shook his head.

Tears filled Rena's eyes, then, as she stumbled weakly toward the Admiral's desk. When I offered to help her, she simply shook her head angerly.

The Admiral swallowed hard before continuing. "We cannot allow for their deaths to blind us from our mission. Our mourning will have to wait."

An awkward moment of silence followed before the Admiral abandoned his ready room for the bridge. Somehow, I felt like I ought to be sharing in Rena's sorrow. But, having never lost one so cherished before, I was unsure as to how to proceed.

"Rena, I . . ."

"Celes," she sobbed, the agony overwhelming her, "you mustn't . . . you can't ever take your friends for granted. There will come a day when you will no longer have them, and not in ten lifetimes will you be able to rid yourself of that burden."

Her words were adamant, even pleading. I knew little about the person she was, and even less of the friends she had, but none of that seemed to matter at that moment. We were both out there in space for the same reason, fighting to save the same people. But ultimately, not all of us would be there to finish the fight. Time, after all, waits for no one.

Not even me.


	3. Middle Ground

Somehow, Rena was eventually able to find her bearings and accompany me back to the bridge. The Admiral hovered over one of his officers when we got there, apparently finding out how much more time there was between us and the planet.

"ETA, 0.3 minutes," said the officer stationed at the conn.

"Open a channel on all known frequencies," the Admiral ordered. With a nod from his subservient, the Admiral began with a standard salutation. "This is Admiral Ronixis J. Kenni of the Earthship Calnus, requesting to speak with an ambassador or liaison from your homeworld."

At first, it didn't seem like anyone was going to respond. Rena did not take kindly to the silence at all.

"Just wait until they answer," she thought aloud, "I'm going to give those Rezonians a piece of my mind."

"You'll do no such thing," the Admiral warned her, "We're going to need their full cooperation on this one."

"But . . . they killed our survey team! Celine and Leon . . . and Claude!"

"It was one group of Rezonians that killed them, Rena."

"Admiral, Claude was my friend!"

The Admiral was getting furious by this time. "He was my son!" he barked back.

I could be nothing other than a passive observer for the two. It was a delicate situation that could have very easily escalated had it not have been for a fashionably late reply from the Rezonian homeworld.

"Admiral," said the one at communications, "we're receiving a transmission."

"Put it on the main viewer," he said, his hope suddenly renewed.

In the blink of an eye, everyone on the main deck was looking down the ugly muzzle of a green Rezonian with scaly skin and serpentine eyes.

"This is First Prelate Krosan of the Rezonian Hierarchy. How may we be of assistance to you, Admiral?"

The Admiral took a moment to consider his worlds very carefully before answering. "This could take some time to explain, First Prelate. However, the long and the short of it is that, an extraplanar force has been destroying inhabited worlds throughout time. We've come to ask you for your help in stopping it."

The First Prelate's scaly brow crinkled. "Throughout time?" he asked.

Rena continued to eye the alien with unquestionable hatred.

"That's correct," the Admiral said. "We're actually native to a planet eleven solar systems away, Space Year 420 by the universal calendar."

The Rezonian on the screen never blinked. "You're from four hundred years in the future?"

The Admiral nodded. "I won't deny that it all sounds a bit farfetched, but I can assure you it's the truth."

"Do not try my patience, Admiral. We have enough trouble dealing with raiding parties and ion storms to fret over some cataclysm that will supposedly begin four hundred years from now."

He made a motion to terminate the transmission when someone reached out from the bridge to try and stop him . . .

"If you don't listen to what we have to say, you won't have a planet left to worry about."

  
  


. . . and as it turned out, that someone was me!

"Identify yourself!" the First Prelate ordered.

I froze, not knowing what to say or do. I looked around the bridge for some help. The Admiral did nothing other than look at me with defiance in his eyes. Rena only stood there with jaw agape. Had I done something wrong, I thought?

"Well?"

"Uh, well, my name is Celes Chere . . ." I hesitated for only a second, trying to recall what it was that Rena had said about my homeworld back in the Admiral's ready room. "I, uh, come from a Class-M planet in spatial grid 532."

The alien allowed for the information to sink in before speaking again. "I see. And how is it that you came to be involved with these alleged 'time travelers'?"

I did my best to give him the most straightforward answer I could. "It was happenstance, really. These people were in search of Heraldry to help them stop this 'extraplanar force'." I could hear the Admiral grunt in the background from the way I tossed around his expression. Nevertheless, I went on. "As it turned out, the Heraldry they had detected came from me."

The Rezonian looked positively jarred. "You?!"

"Yes. I was infused with mag- . . . I mean, Heraldry when I was a child."

"And what was it that prompted you to go along with them?"

"Well, nothing. I was taken by force."

"I believe we've heard enough."

"No, wait! The fact of the matter is, my people are not a space-faring civilization, at least not yet, we aren't. And before Rena and her friends came along, I never would have dreamed that space travel would be possible at all. But if I can be led to believe such a tall tale, maybe you can, too."

The First Prelate paused to consider what it was I had told him. The Calnus, meanwhile, held its breath . . .

"Have you learned to completely trust these new companions of yours?"

"I won't deny that these people took me against my will, but it was the only way they could get me to understand what was at stake. It was their intentions that won me over in the end. It's friends, and family. It's having a home, and doing whatever you can to hang on to it, just as you do everything you can to watch over your homeworld."

At last, the Rezonian seemed to be taken in by my account.

"So," he said finally, "this 'extraplanar force', as your Admiral calls it. Quite powerful, I take it. What will it take for us to bring it down?"

I looked over to Rena and smiled. She smiled back. Maybe the gambler was right all along. Maybe I really would have made a good teacher.

* * *

"Heraldry is the key, First Prelate."

Rena, the Admiral, and I were back in the medical bay, this time accompanied with three burly Rezonians. Jean was all the more anxious in their presence but somehow remained steadfast enough to disclose our plan to them.

  
  


"Past scans have revealed that your people are an LEA-puissant species. Pushing your people's evolutionary clock forward may be the key to allow for the full potential of your people's Heraldry to come through."

The Admiral looked particularly pleased with Jean's power of persuasion. I had to tip my hat to him as well. There could very well have been a little diplomacy in him yet.

"Past scans?" Krosan retorted. "We've never detected your vessel in orbit over our planet before. We don't even have mention of you in our logs. How could you . . ."

The First Prelate stopped himself. Apparently, it was going to take time for him to accept the notion of having allies whose history had yet to be recorded.

"Ah yes," he added, "I keep forgetting. You're from the future. Very well. You may continue, doctor."

Jean nodded and instructed us all to accompany him into a small, isolated room filled with purple light. Inside, there was a small glass chamber cut off from the rest of us. A test subject could be seen standing on the other side. It was another Rezonian.

"Treachery!" one of Krosan's aides snarled at a turn. "You've turned our people into guinea pigs!"

"The Rezonian you see," Jean explained coolly, "is a willing participant from your planet's future. I assure you, he's quite safe."

The First Prelate grunted. "That is somewhat difficult to believe when you have him isolated with a glass shield."

Despite himself, Jean looked to be losing his patience with the Rezonians. "It is merely a precautionary measure, First Prelate. Allow us to explain.

"The Rezonian, as you see him here, is a native of the Rezonia that exists four hundred years from now." Jean reached out and pressed a few touch-sensitive controls on a panel affixed to the glass. The result was a darkened chamber, as well as a phosphorescent Rezonian. "The lighted areas are the glands of the Rezonian that are concentrated in LEA metabolism, the process by which Heraldry among biological beings is possible."

"Four hundred years have been good to our people," observed Krosan. "The LEA in his body is twice as strong as that of our people today."

"Granted," Jean replied. "However, the evolutionary process takes millions of years to find the momentum we need to confront Indalecio. Unfortunately, time is a luxury that we're quickly running out of."

"So, what did you have in mind?" grilled the First Prelate.

"We employ the same technology that allows for the Calnus to travel back and forth through time." 

Having said this, Jean this time pressed a blinking red control on the panel. Almost instantly, our small room was filled with a clamor that could rip whole worlds asunder. We all came close to madness in those cacophonous moments. Rena, the Admiral, even the Rezonians were keeling over in agony from the discord. A simple glance at our test subject, however, seemed to make our pain come in second.

The creature's form bent and rippled while the holographic projections of the Rezonian's glands began to swell and change shape within its body. When the changes could no longer be borne on the inside, they pulsated and began to alter the Rezonian's appearance. The scales on his head and neck became more pronounced, and his shoulders began to expand and grow new appendages. Wings ripped themselves free from paper-thin membranes along its back. Before the transformation was complete, we were all staring up at a creature that was easily twice the size of its ancestors, with dragon wings and mandibles so thick that they could break a man in half.

The First Prelate was beyond impressed. "The future appears bright for Rezonia."

  
  


As if to reply, the mutated Rezonian inhaled and let out a gout of fire that shattered the glass enclosure around it. Everyone dived for cover. On instinct, Rena and I both raked the swords out of our scabbards and prepared for battle.

"The situation's under control," the Admiral assured us. "Everyone just calm down."

"Control, my scaly backside!" snarled the First Prelate, suddenly very upset. "You can't expect me to believe that this 'thing' can still respond to orders, can you?!"

"First Prelate, I instructed him to react that way." The confession caused more than one jaw to go through the floor. "I only thought that a little demonstration might help to convince you. Isn't that so, Kraylor"?

The beast nodded and snarled. Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief all at once.

"Well, alright then," Krosan replied, "So, we know that they're powerful and we know that they can be controlled. But ours is a planet of over seventeen billion. How do you intend to implement this plan of yours on a planetary scale?"

"It would require extensive modifications to our weapons array," explained Jean," but if we could emit a chroniton stream, directed at an isolated region of Rezonia, it should create a temporal shockwave strong enough to alter the physiology of every Rezonian on the planet."

The doctor in Jean stopped himself.

"Theoretically, of course."

I could tell from the Prelate's grunting that he didn't at all like the sound of 'configuring weapons'. My only hope was that he remembered what it was that I had told him about trust.

"Can the procedure be reversed?" he finally asked.

The Admiral stepped forward. "If we succeed in our mission, and Indalecio is defeated, this alliance of ours would have never taken place. To that end, your people would be as they are right now."

"If you say so." Krosan rubbed his scaly forehead exhaustively. "I am hardly the veteran on such a topic as temporal mechanics."

A smile fostered on the Admiral's face, his first since hearing news of his son's death. "I can assure you that, your people are in good hands. Now, if you'll be so kind as to accompany me to the bridge, we'll see if we can isolate an ideal focal point down on the planet."

"Indeed." Krosan then turned to his two colleagues. "You two will assist Doctor Bowman with the weapon modifications. Give him anything he needs, understood?"

Though noticeably irked at having to cater to a human's needs, the two Rezonians yielded without question.

"And as for 'you' two," the Admiral added, gesturing to Rena and I, "try your best to relax for a while. You'll be notified when we are ready to proceed."

* * *

With all of the excitement and responsibility of saving the universe, I had somehow forgotten how hungry I was. 'Can't save the world on an empty stomach', Sabin was often fond of saying. How right he was!

"Enjoying your steak?" Rena asked, sitting at the opposite end of a table in an otherwise empty mess hall.

"Delicious," I muttered through a mouthful of meat. "Mmmm, and these potatoes! My compliments to the chef."

  
  


"Actually, there is no chef onboard the Calnus." These were her words as she idly prodded a piece of shortcake with her fork. "The ship is equipped with food synthesizers that can replicate us anything we want."

"Oh," I said. "Very well, then. My compliments to your food synthesizers."

She smiled but, just like her words that evening, it was forced. I suppose it was only natural. Now that she had time to reflect on the loss, Rena was beginning to realize just how hard it would be without her friend.

"Tell me about him," I heard myself ask.

She looked up from her dessert. "What?"

"Claude," I replied, "what was he like?"

Despite the situation, I could see that Rena brightened considerably at the mention of his name. "Well, there isn't much to tell, really. He was my . . . my, um . . . well, you know."

I nodded, urging her on.

"He was really big on adventure," she continued, "he took risks that most of us would never even consider in our lifetimes. He had a good heart, though. Ah yes, and he loved children. I think that's what I liked most about him."

I smiled. "Sounds like someone I left back home."

"We had some rather fascinating adventures, he and I. I have all these memories of the places we went, the friends we made, the skills we learned . . ."

She paused to collect her thoughts.

"Hmmm, and I don't suppose any of them really happened."

"But when we do defeat him-" I began to say.

"When we do," she growled, "I'll have Claude back, yes! But then, you and I will have never met! 'Our' friendship will have ceased to exist! Trading one friend for another?! No, it isn't fair!"

I can't honestly say I understood what it was that she was trying to get out. One minute she was mourning over Claude, the next she was brooding over a friendship that time had yet to erase. The whole concept was beginning to give me a huge headache.

Now, I knew how the First Prelate felt.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that Rena?" I pushed the plate of food away from me. "You drafted me for this mission because you thought I could help. Yet every time I try, you blow me off. What is it?"

She seemed to grasp this, yet couldn't shake the funk she had slipped into. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . I'm scared. Now that Claude's gone, there seems to be this terrible finality to it all. I can't help but think that . . ." 

She stiffened all of a sudden, eyes wide as though she had seen a ghost. "The Black Wind howls . . ." she rasped, her voice sullen but alert. 

"What?"

"An expression," she explained, "from a far removed friend of mine."

I couldn't be sure of what the expression meant, but I knew it wasn't good.

  
  


"What do you mean?" I pressed, growing more concerned over her expression.

"He's coming . . ."

"Who? Who's coming?"

"Indalecio . . . he's found us."

* * *

The speed of the Calnus seemed imbued in Rena's legs as we made our way back to the bridge. When we got there, the Admiral and First Prelate Krosan appeared in the final stages of chosing a target down on the planet surface. Rena wasted no time in delivering the news.

"We have to work fast!" she cried, almost tripping over her feet in the wake of her panic. "Indalecio has found us! He could be here any second!"

The expression on the Admiral's face told me that he knew better than to disregard a vision from Rena. "What will it be, First Prelate? I'd much rather not have to plead with your ancestors on this one. We need an answer now!"

"Very well," he answered, acting on an option that had probably been proposed before our arrival. "We'll have the chroniton stream target here, in the northern hemisphere." The viewing globe, which had once encompassed a system of stars, zoomed in to enclose the Rezonian homeworld. "The Phundara Plains are largely uninhabited. Casualties should be at a minimum. If anything should happen to the others though, something unforeseen . . ."

"If we do nothing," the Admiral warned, "we all die."

Without waiting to hear the Rezonian's response, Rena went over to a communications terminal and pressed a control. "Jean, what's the status of the chroniton pulse?"

"It's standing by," his voice replied, "I'll just need another ten minutes to plug in these new coordinates from the Admiral."

"You've got five," she ordered, and flicked the switch back off. "Why do we have to cut these things so damn close?"

"It wouldn't be exciting otherwise."

I had intended for the comment to be in jest but when no one so much as smiled, I decided not to speak again unless I was spoken to. The bridge was soon thrown into chaos, with crew members mumbling 'planetary vector' this and 'structural integrity' that. Even Rena, whom I had hoped would give me some task to keep me occupied, was too immersed in ship operations to pay me any mind.

So, I stood there, in silence, with my thoughts.

And that was when I heard him, his voice being everywhere and nowhere, all and one, familiar but threatening . . .

"Celes . . ."

I was taken aback. At first, I paid the voice no mind, assuming it was just a random thought of mine that had spoken too loudly. Then, it came again, as every bit determined as before.

"Come on, why won't you answer me?"

"I . . ." It must have been perculiar for the rest of the crew to see me like that, dazed and talking to thin air. But in that one instant, none of them seemed to exist, not Rena, nor the Admiral, the Calnus, Indalecio, none of them. Only that voice, the voice of a distant friend. "I . . . wasn't sure if it was you or not."

  
  


Rena's voice echoed weakly from somewhere as he moved toward me but it was as if she no longer mattered. He smiled as if from a tale which warmed his heart. The way his face dimpled, the way his bandana was tied around his forehead, how the trailworn leather accentuated his features . . .

How could it not be him?

"Celes . . ."

I swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm here."

He touched my face, and I was lulled.

"Celes Chere . . ."

"Wha . . ." With an agonizing slowness, my bliss became horror. "Locke?"

"You . . . belong to me."

I opened my eyes, unaware that I had closed them. "Who-"

"-for impact!!"

Reality struck like a wrecking ball. All the ship was taken out from under me, rocking violently as a tangle of bodies sent me spinning through total darkness. All the while a sound, not entirely unlike that of a distant earthquake, emanated from somewhere down on the Rezonian homeworld . . .

"What happened?" I asked of no one in particular.

"Emergency lights." On voice command, all of the bridge was bathed in a dim red light as the Admiral helped me back to my feet. "It must have been the chroniton pulse. Displacement from the beam must have been greater than we anticipated."

"The pulse had nothing to do with it." Rena forcibly threw several crew members off of her before joining us. "It was Indalecio. I already said that! And you!"

She grabbed me by the collar and pulled me so close that our noses almost touched. "What's with you?! You're supposed to keep those thoughts of yours under control, else He'll take them and use them against you!"

I tried thinking of something intelligent to say, a difficult thing to do when a goofy-looking girl with blue hair has you by the throat. "Anyone ever tell you that you look kinda cute when you're angry?"

She growled and released her hold. "I can't believe you can pull jokes at a time like this! We've got to rally those Rezonians and do it quickly before-"

"Admiral!"

Everyone's eyes were fixed at once upon the sector of space before them. A creature, whose sheer size seemed to transcend the entire quadrant, left us all awestruck. The way it moved almost made it appear harmless, slithering through space as thought it were a serpent of the sea. But its form was another matter entirely. Hundreds of thousands of spiked mandibles reached out from a vast body that only vaguely looked humanoid. Miles upon miles of an arcane fabric, still recognizable as a sort of wizard's cloak, was swathed tightly about a horned exoskeleton. When, at last, its head could be discerned, its seething cobalt eyes and demonic visage came close to driving us all to despair.

"Report," said a badly shaken Admiral.

"Whatever it is, sir, it's coming up fast. And it's at least a quarter of a light year across. Theoretically, sir, anything with those kind of dimensions-"

  
  


"Could be generating its own gravitational field," the Admiral finished for him. "In which case, it's going to try and crush us like a tin can. Back us off, soldier, nice and easy."

"What the hell is that thing?" I remembered saying.

Everyone in eyeshot seemed to wear a pained expression, as though the inevitable would soon be upon them.

"It's the end," said Rena, shaking her head.

"Propulsion is off-line, sir. We can't even fire up the thrusters to back us off, much less pull a short jump out of here. We're dead in the water."

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the Admiral to make a judgment call they knew would not bode well for them, no matter what it was.

"Well, alright then," he said after much hesitation. Offhandedly, he dismissed the officer that was stationed at the comm terminal and opened up a channel to the crew. "This is Admiral Ronixis J. Kenni. All hands are to execute evacuation protocols twenty-eight and twenty-nine Beta. Report to your designated escape pods. We're abandoning ship."

Without question, his subservients abandoned their posts and left the bridge in single file. In minutes, all that lingered were myself, Rena, Admiral Kenni, and First Prelate Krosan.

"You're coming with us though, right?" Distraught beyond reason, Rena confronted the Admiral, not at all about to tolerate the foolish pride of a superior officer. "We're getting out of this together, aren't we?"

The Admiral shook his head. "Someone's going to need to stay behind and create a diversion long enough for you to get away." He smiled in an attempt to stave off a bitter farewell. "Besides, you said it yourself: our only hope is to make a difference in the Here and Now. Now, that hope lies with you and Celes. Make us proud."

"Damn you . . ." she told her superior before embracing him for old-time's sake.

I breathed deeply and chanced a look out through the glass. The creature was getting far too near to the Calnus for my comfort. Exciting indeed, I thought, mentally kicking myself.

"We probably should get going," I added. "You too, First Prelate."

After all this time, the burly Rezonian finally spoke up. "Admiral Kenni holds no sway over the Rezonian Hierarchy, thus I choose to stay behind. Besides, I was quite the tactician in my heyday. It could give our freedom fighters a few more minutes."

Although there was no smile upon the First Prelate's scaly features, the Admiral took his gesture as genuine and the two clasped hands only for a moment before taking their stations. Rena and I said our goodbyes and made for the lift, lingering only long enough to hear the Admiral address the onboard computer for the absolute last time.

"Computer: enable the Auto-destruct sequence. Authorization: Kenni, Ronixis J., Phi-nine-seven."

* * *

It was easier to make our escape from the Calnus than I had originally assumed, mainly because we were among the last to leave. Rena led us to the hangar where we would find our escape pod, understandably quiet the whole way. Our only company was the ever stoic computer voice, utterly oblivious of its own fate as it continued to remind us how many minutes were left before the ship was no more.

"Are you okay?" I asked as we boarded the pod, an elliptical miniature of the Calnus. "You just seem a little . . ."

"Fine." Her reply sounded mechanical. Her preparing of the pod for departure more so. "Just strap yourself in and be ready for the G-force."

I did what was asked of me. It must have been horrible, first losing one's best friend and then the father of that friend. Though I had only been part of the Calnus crew a matter of days, I could tell that the Admiral had been very much like a father to her as well. It probably wouldn't be an emotional stain that would wash away any time soon.

In a halfhearted gesture, she activated the touch-sensitive panel in front of her, causing the bay doors to yawn open before us. I was already holding onto my seat, expecting to be catapulted forward by the vacuum of space. When nothing happened, I looked back over at the glowing display on Rena's side of the cabin. It read 'LOCKING CLAMPS: ENGAGED'.

She gave me a neutral look. "You can fear for your life, now."

A fraction of a second passed between Rena's flick of the switch and our maddening exodus into the Great Beyond. The Calnus was gone in an instant. I had already forgotten how many minutes were left prior to destruction. Rezonia was coming at us almost too fast for any peace of mind. I was pushed so far into my seat that I didn't think it would ever be possible to pull myself out again.

"You do this often?" I tried asking over the clamor of space turbulence.

She didn't reply. Whether it was out of ignorance or just not being able to hear me I have no idea. Before long, the pod began to feel hot and our view of the planet was suddenly lost in a haze of red and yellow. Being my first entry flight through an atmosphere, I did the only rational thing I could think of.

"We're burning up!" I yelled, this time loud enough to get Rena's attention.

"It's to be expected!" she yelled back at me. "Don't worry! The pod'll hold out long enough for us to make a safe landing!"

I took her words at face value, but kept quiet all the same. Sweat began to roll down my forehead in beads, so quickly was our cabin turning into a sauna. The same must have been happening to Rena, but she was too busy piloting the pod to take any notice.

"Our descent ratio is nominal." The trembling of the shuttle trailed off and then stopped. "Switching to atmospheric thrusters. You okay, Celes?"

I nodded. "Is there any way for us to contact the rest of the crew?"

"I'll try opening a comm-link to the other pods." Her face had since rediscovered an old determination as she switched to communications. "This is Rena Lanford of the shuttlecraft Lacour. If crew members of the Earthship Calnus are receiving this transmission, they are ordered to respond. Over."

We exchanged an uneasy look as the static went on for two minutes . . . three . . . four . . .

"I repeat," she tried again. "This is Rena Lanford of the shuttlecraft Lacour. Is anybody-"

"Rena?"

A spark of hope returned. "Jean?! I can't believe it! Where are you? Are the others with you? Over."

"I've set down in the deposition crator where the chroniton pulse struck. I overheard the First Prelate saying that the Phundara Plains were virtually uninhabited, so I landed there. No word of the others so far, though. Do you copy that?"

"I copy, Jean. That was good thinking."

"Where's the Admiral?"

  
  


An ultrasonic explosion answered from somewhere beyond the atmosphere. In the ashen skies of Rezonia, all that could be seen was a faint ring of blue, displacement from the wreckage as far as the eye could see.

It could have only been the Calnus.

"Guess," she said, after a pause that seemed to last forever. "Transmit your coordinates on an Earth Federation frequency to the rest of the crew."

"What about you? And Celes?"

"Just look after the crew, Jean."

"But-"

She severed the comm-link and tilted her head wearily to look outside. Pieces of debris could still be seen burning in the distance, no doubt dampening her spirits even further.

"What have I gotten this crew into, Celes? Is there really any true hope left to finish what it is we've started? I'm beginning to wonder."

"Hey." I rested a hand on her shoulder. "You're not giving up on it all, are you?"

"I'm only being realistic."

I breathed long and slow before replying. "You know, if I had been realistic five and a half years ago, I probably would have curled up and died on some solitary island. Instead, I found my friends all over again and brought down a warlord. Are you really ready to just curl up and die when we're this close to the end?"

Slowly but surely, Rena found her smile again. "So, that's why I chose you for this mission. I was beginning to forget."


	4. Melee

"We still have a few cards to play." We landed our shuttle at the mouth of a large gorge. Rena spoke of giving me something before heading out, something for the battle at hand. "It was forged by a man a very long time ago, created from antiproton energy and guaranteed to strike a mortal blow every time. He called it 'Sacred Tear'."

"Whoa . . ." 'Whoa' was an understatement. Its blade gleamed a transparent blue, almost gemlike with distinct zigzag facets running down the middle. The hilt was no less a splendor, its pummel curved like the blade of a scimitar, astoundingly lightweight. "It's remarkable."

"It belonged to Claude."

I hesitated, then handed it back. "No, I can't."

But Rena persisted. "I think he'd appreciate it that I gave it to as skilled a swordsman as yourself. But whatever you do, don't let the blade come into contact with anything other than its scabbard. As I said, it's an antiproton weapon. If you're not careful, you could kill yourself."

I gave it an uneasy look. "Duly noted."

"And I thought you might also be wanting this back."

I smiled as she handed me my Runic blade. "I considered just leaving it behind in Figaro, then it occurred to me that it may yet have its uses in the not-too-distant future."

"Old friend . . ." Nothing felt quite so good as to hold it again, a blade that had been by my side for many years and had seen many battles. It lifted my spirit all over again. "I'm ready, now."

"Me, too." She pulled on a pair of razored knuckles, each one with the same intrinsic blue glow as the Sacred tear. "Our first order of business should be to gain the trust of Rezonia. We'll need it for what's coming."

I nodded. "Indalecio."

Stepping out into the humid homeworld of Rezonia, I gave my new weapon a few experimental twirls to ward off its uncomfortable weight. "Mind if I ask why this Indalecio fellow is so bent on destruction?"

Rena took a stance behind me, her eyes ever cautious of the gorge ahead. "It's a long and complicated story."

"Is there an abridged version?"

She kept both fists out before her, keeping focus. "He was exiled a long time ago, he along with nine others. Over time, he manipulated the nine to his own advantage and steadily, his power grew."

"I get it, your standard, run-of-the-mill, power-crazed maniac. Reminds me of someone I used to know . . ."

"Quiet."

We both stopped. A low rumble, coupled with the ominous trickle of stone and sediment, left us reevaluating our strategy. An arcane force bent and twisted the air around us, making it difficult to determine whether we were standing before a vast sprawling city or a barren wasteland. The sheen of city light and the torpor of distant tablelands mixed chaotically, as though they were both there and 'not' there. And all at once, a dizziness came over me, one not entirely like my first taste of space travel.

"What . . ."

"I feel it, too." She put a hand to her stomach, though careful not to let the prongs of her gauntlet touch her. "They must be aftereffects from the chroniton stream. Temporal flux must be crippling the planet."

  
  


Our dizziness subsided before long, but the rumbling in the distance did not. If anything, it became more violent as we continued on, until it became difficult to keep a foothold. I tried telling myself they were nothing but seismic tremors, even as the fragile reality around us kept me on edge. Something was coming for us, something large, something fast . . .

"What is it?"

"It's them." She took a nervous breath, her gleaming azure gauntlets held defensively before her. "Rezonians. Celes!"

In an eye's blink, distant clouds of dust parted, revealing a near infinite tide of grotesquely twisted creatures, each one identical to the test subject we had seen back aboard the Calnus. Their sinews were sharp, their numbers beyond count, and they were all heading straight for us!

"What are you waiting for?" Rena's voice somehow broke through the din of endless marching, apparently deciding to attack me verbally before anything else. "Let's get them before they get us!"

It didn't make sense. First she had suggested coming to terms with the natives, now she was about to go on the offensive against them! Even as the killing swarm rumbled ever closer to our position, the contradictory nature of it all struck me dumb. And that's when I had an epiphany . . .

"Celes!"

"Rena, wait!"

I took to running after her, though not to join in the fray. It was a no-win situation after all; we were outnumbered at least a thousand to one. They'd have to be controlled, and I knew just the trick.

"Yaaah!"

"No!"

With dust strangling my lungs, I jumped, swirled underneath her, and threw out a leg, taking Rena's feet out from under her. The swarm was right on top of us, mere yards from ripping us to shreds. They can be controlled, the Admiral had once told us. And so, I took a breath, held my Runic blade out ahead of me, and waited.

I must have closed my eyes. When you're a stone's throw from death, many things tend to run through your mind. It isn't life flashing before your eyes. You get too scared for that. Rather, you take the last few seconds of rational thought to evaluate bits and pieces of your life, wondering how you could have went about handing them differently.

It felt like an eternity.

"Celes . . ."

When I came to, Rena and I were utterly surrounded. Their lust for blood, on the other hand, appeared to be quenched and they stood idle in a circle around us. Still mesmerized by the sight of my Runic blade, they looked like ten-foot-tall statues, with only their breathing giving them away as living beings. Disconcerting, I suppose, but far better than having razored mandibles rip the life out of you.

"I'm impressed," said a timid Rena as she held a hand up to a towering Rezonian. She waved her hand experimentally but its line of sight never wavered, focusing solely on my Runic blade. "So, the Admiral was right all along."

"I remembered him saying once that the greater their LEA metabolism, the greater their potential for magic. Since my Runic blade is the product of-"

"I get the picture." Evidently, there was no time to go into a long, drawn-out explanation. "My only hope is that it's enough to make them understand-"

  
  


The sky went dark without warning, the air bitter cold. So long had I been drafted on this mission that there wasn't any point in speculating over the energy ribbons and coccoon-shaped beings racing across the horizon. Rena grabbed my arm, the one holding the Runic blade, and pointed it up toward the airborne chaos.

"The enemy!" she called to those around us. "Conquer or die!"

Rena knew all along that our coming to Rezonia was a last stand, a final ditch effort to put an end to all the torment - theirs as well as those she had lost. Part of me suspected that those onboard the Calnus knew this as well, and that not all of us were going to come out of this alive. Rezonia, to be sure, could feel the entropy of this situation, too. Even despite their hyperevolved state and their newly honed instinct for genocide, their eyes still mirrored the uncertainty of it all. They knew. We all knew.

Fire ignited the sky.

The beasts, which Rena had called 'xenomorphs', broke beyond the unholy blaze without warning. Everywhere their shelled, multi-armed bodies fell like rain upon their foes, flinging entire flanks of Rezonians left, right, and center. A crackling like lightning ran rampant across the battlefield, drowning out the sounds of bloodlust and death. Then, just as swiftly, the tide shifted, as our winged, reptilian fighters took to the fray with renewed vigor. With mandibles swinging and the element of flight in their favor, Rezonia fought back.

And each side overwhelmed the other.

"We mustn't linger." From the view of our hillock, Rena's expression became grave. "We've been trained for this contingency. Rezonia will be overrun if we do nothing."

"And just what are we supposed to do against creatures of those size?" The sword in my hand was suddenly very heavy. "We can't go down there! It's suic-"

Out of nowhere, another of the squid-like behemoths dropped from the air, crashing onto the escarpment behind us. Rena wasted no time, swerving on the balls of her feet and ran with uncommon daring to deal a close-quarter blow to the beast. The hiss of electricity surrounded us as the xenomorph's appendages reached out to either strangle or electrocute its attacker. Dauntless, Rena parried each one in succession and retaliated with a well-timed jab with one of her gleaming gauntlets . . .

I expected blood. I expected viscera. At the very least, there should have been a cry of either agony or anger. Instead. A brilliant white flash ignited within the beast. And then, nothing. It simply disappeared!

"Whoa . . ."

"Whoa indeed," said Rena, priding herself. "Still believe it's suicide?" 

She reached out to me and clasped my arm, a gesture that needed no explanation. 

"To victory."

I nodded. "To victory."

As one, Rena and I leaped from our precipice and down to where the ever familiar chaos of battle awaited us. Rezonia had our scent by this time, knowing us to be allies in a common interest. But our battleground was nonetheless haphazard, with cramped bodies letting nothing come between hunter and prey. In an eye's blink, the scene was different, with Rezonian and xenomorph alike being laid to waste in a sea of ichor and mangled limbs.

Rena was the first to find her footing. Sidestepping the fervor of her Rezonian brethren, she was quick to vanish from my sight, lost as she was to the call of battle. Singling out xenomorph from Rezonian was no difficult task, as one of the former easily dwarfed over an entire troupe of the latter. I took heart as their electric discharges swept aside one killing charge after the next, parting the Rezonian tide as though it were nothing but a meadow. I kept to my feet, endlessly evading and waiting for the next xenomorph to appear.

I didn't have long to wait. Blown back from yet another concussive force, a line of Rezonians crashed down on top of me. The world went spinning in all directions. A dark haze danced on the edge of my consciousness, making it near impossible to discern where my attacker was. It had obviously drawn first blood; the copper taste of it filled my mouth and crimson streaked my vision. But of course, first blood wasn't as important as last blood.

"Show yourself, you bastard!" I brought both of my blades to bear, my Runic to lure the beast off-guard and Sacred Tear to deliver the fatal blow. "What are you afraid of?"

Finally, as my vision began to clear, I saw it. Less than a few yards away, flanked on all sides by dead Rezonians, a xenomorph - larger than any I had encountered thus far - had its amorphous form hunched low to the ground, waiting to capitalize. It already had the advantage: its platinum exoskeleton reflected the light of an azure sun, blinding me further. Nothing short of classic Imperial precognition kept me ready for the battle at hand.

"That's it . . . follow my lead." With my Runic to the fore, I gave a vaguely hypnotic wave, taking heart as the xenomorph's tentacles swayed with the esper metal of my sword. Ever so gradually, so as not to break the beast's trance, I inched ever closer, one careful footfall after the next. Yards closed to feet. A guttural growl started to build from somewhere within that shelled and shapeless mess. Go time . . . "Come on!"

An inhuman blur. Its limbs broke free of my spell, pinwheeling and raking the empty space between us. I froze. One touch of those python-sized arms had felled an entire phalanx of Rezonians. If the same happened to me, I'd be dead for sure. I stood rooted in place, with only my arms moving to parry and feint what seemed a maze of serpents, each with a mind of its own. Endless. Relentless. They were gaining ground with ease. I breathed at last and ran for the kill, Sacred Tear held out in a killing thrust. Like an enormous gavel about to pass judgement, an appendage came down on top of me . . .

A yard . . .

A meter . . .

A foot.

An inch!

Then it was gone.

It was everything I could do not to collapse, to occupy the space which only seconds earlier had been host to the creature I had just lain waste. The cacophony of war trailed on without interruption, yet I was still alive. The day had not yet been won. More and more of the xenomorphic beings fell as hail to the twisted landscape, crushing earth and Rezonian alike. There soon appeared to be more of them than there were us. But I pressed on, eager to finish what we started.

Still alive.

The going got easier. My muscles complained as my mind began to register the sheer size and quantity of the nightmares I had on my hands. But my training kept it all from my mind. Just how long had it been since last I experienced a good fight? Too long, it seemed. My strategy was ever tried and true. Feint with the Runic. Thrust with Sacred Tear. Spiced liberally with caution and focus, this quickly became my recipe for endurance. And the tide began to shift . . .

"Celes!"

So lost was I to the fervor of battle that I didn't even bother replying until another xenomorph was ripped from reality. One brilliant flash of light later, I gazed out across a wave of insanity personified. Across the way, covered head to toe in ichor and entrails but smiling nonetheless, was Rena.

"Hey!" I cried, waving back at her. "What a row! I got nine so far!"

  
  


She grinned. "Thirteen!"

I returned the grin with a false scowl. Just who did she think she was dealing with? "What?! You wiseass! I'll show you!"

All in good fun, she took but a second more to laugh before returning to the skirmish at hand. It was the reason we were here. Rena for her home, me for mine, the Rezonians for theirs. How deeply I missed it at that moment. And to think that only two days or so ago, I had wanted nothing more than for it to go away. Faith guided my stroke as another xenomorph was ripped to oblivion before me. I couldn't fail them, not Rena nor the Admiral nor Rezonia. Not Locke.

Eleven, twelve . . .

"Hey, I'm caught up!" The scaled armies didn't seem to take notice as the war raged on. "That'll show Rena she can't fiddle with Celes Chere in a game of wins!"

It was then that I took notice of something I hadn't before. Our Rezonian hordes, while still as active as ever, were marching in the wrong direction. They were heading away from our enemies, as though they were afraid of something . . .

At first, it seemed like some wondrous gift. With my fire for battle still stoked, their forsaking the battlefield only meant more action for myself and Rena. But I looked again. Each of these twisted beings had begun to change somehow, to coalesce and grow larger. In the time it took for Rena and I to regroup beyond the mouth of the gorge, the xenomorphs, united into a confusing jumble of flesh, fluid, and energy.

I let out an exhausted sigh. "So, what do we do now?"

Rena's expression didn't change as the entity before us all came to life, gathering tendrils of power from all around it.

"Running would be a good idea."

Nothing else needed to be said. In concert, Rena and I turned tail and ran with the masses, hoping to be beyond the tablelands before the enemy had a chance to do . . . well, whatever it was a xenomorph of its incomprehensible size did to turn the tables. We were bumped and shoved without relent; a superhuman swell of Rezonian warriors could very easily bulldoze over you if you weren't able to keep up with the flow of movement. With a body coming dangerously close to shutting down on me from sheer exhaustion, it got more difficult to imagine a worse fate than being trampled to death with every frenzied step I took.

Then, it happened.

All of reality convulsed and spasmed around me. Infinite heat and light filled every corner of Rezonia's war-torn world. It 'became' the world. I was going to die. Ever fibre of my being was absolutely convinced of it. Something alien, almost metaphysical, crept up my spine, something I had believed buried since the days of the Empire. Fear. Panic. I was coming undone, becoming unmade. Screams of warriors, who had once cried out of fearlessness, now did so out of uncontrolled agony.

"What do we-" I started to say.

"End this," was all she told me. She brought an index finger to her lips, giving voice to a cantrip in a tongue that was lost to me. All the while, a tide of unholy fire reduced our hellish army to cinders. And we would be next . . . "Finish what it was we've started."

"Rena . . ."

"Goodbye."

"Rena!"

She took hold of my arm, and I suddenly felt whole again, complete, no longer fearful or doubtful of the confrontation at hand. With her last ounce of strength she had passed onto to me a spell of protection, a safeguard against an inferno none other would survive, Rena included. She stood statue still only a moment, her calm expression utterly betraying the entropy of such a hopeless situation. 

And then, her form became ashen and fell away into nothing.

I suppose I should have felt hopeless, if not by choice then at least to show some degree of respect for the sacrifice my friend had made. But I wouldn't. I couldn't, not after seeing things more clearly than I ever had before. The earth roared and split open beneath me. I was at once aware that not even the tablelands around me had survived the hellish barrage of Indalecio. But I wouldn't be swayed. 'We may yet see our loved ones again if we truly believe it'. They had been Rena's precise words.

"And so you shall," I whispered to myself, "So you shall."

Gritting my teeth, I straightened at the edge of a precipice which had, only seconds earlier, been a deep gorge. One vicious singularity after the next flew at me but simple feints with my Runic blade threw them off course straightaway. The entity closed on me. Already, it had resumed taunting me. I could hear Locke's voice, Terra's, Edgar's, Cid's, even Rena's seemed to be pleading for the life of this creature. But I kept true to my instincts, never faltering. 

The time had come to put an end to this.

"Come on, big boy!"

It reacted. Gone in an instant was the subtlety of the one named Indalecio. The precipice beneath me disintegrated. All the cosmos were ablaze. All sense of time and direction had forsaken me. Head over heels I fell, my hold on the hilt of Runic faltering and my hold on consciousness none the better. But Sacred Tear was still in hand. Swift and violent, with faith and purpose guiding my stroke, I fell like a comet upon the foe. The antiproton metal found home, penetrating membrane, tissue, bone, and finally vitals. This one screamed, but did little else other than writhe from the power of my strike. All over again, my enemy exploded into brilliant light and flame. I howled my victory.

And every last fibre that had been the godless reality of Indalecio was no more . . .


	5. Endgame

I sat up with a start.

My body gave a shiver as I suddenly discerned where I was. I was back in Figaro Castle, dripping wet in a tub of lukewarm bath water. It was as if I had never left in the first place, that all of the events that occurred over those two fateful days in some distant corner of the galaxy never happened. Had I strayed into a dream without my knowing it?

I sat stone still for what seemed a long time afterward. It couldn't have been a dream, I kept telling myself. It had been so real, so lucid. I could still hear the battle cries of frantic Rezonia, could still feel the harsh desert wind of the planet raking at my face. And Indalecio. No, there was no forgetting 'that' little confrontation, not even if I wanted to. And then there was . . .

"Rena!"

I stared slack-jawed as a shadow crept across the far wall of my room, followed by the sound of a door being opened and closed. On impulse, I leaped out of the tub and threw a towel around me. It was deja'vu all over again. Would things really come to repeat themselves as they had the first time around?

"Rena, wait!"

I was at my chamber door in a heartbeat, tearing it open without giving a second thought to any sentries who might have been on duty. I looked around the corner down the corridor, but there was nothing. Even Edgar's room for machines across the way was undisturbed. The sentry at the top of the stairwell gave me a sheepish look.

"Something I can do you for you, Miss Chere?"

I was too preoccupied with finding Rena to give a second thought to my attire. "You didn't happen to see a young woman with blue hair down on this floor, did you?"

The sentry only shook his head. "There are only you and I on this level at this hour. But I could comb the castle if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary, but thank-you anyway."

I sighed and went back to my chamber. It was then that I saw it, propper upright at the head of my bed, resting in an ornate silver scabbard and gleaming as though it had never before experienced a battle.

The Sacred Tear.

And there was something else as well. Wound around its curved golden hilt was a green ribbon with a note affixed to it. On it, in every conceivable language in addition to my own, it read simply as 'Thank-you, signed Rena Lanford'.

Relief. Happiness. Gratitude. They came at me all at once. Everything was the way it was supposed to be now. I had returned finding everything as I left it and the same, I assured myself, went for all those other people whose homes and families had been taken from them. It was a good evening, a wonderful evening. I felt like doing something to celebrate . . .

A knock at the door stirred me from my revel. "Celes?"

The voice was Terra's. Had she come back for some reason, to put into perspective what we had talked about earlier?

"Just a minute, I'm undressed!" I pulled on my white fleece robe again and answered the door with a genuine smile.

"Long time, no see, Cel!"

"I'm sorry I-" I was taken aback. Had she forgotten about our conversation that quickly? "What did you say?"

"Uh, long time, no see?" She let herself in. "I didn't mean to disturb you. It's just that, we never got a chance to talk earlier."

  
  


This didn't make any sense. "What are you talking about? We spoke a little while ago. Didn't we?"

She frowned. "What? When?"

I smiled. How could I have not seen it before? I was back in the same time and place I was in before this whole thing started. Despite myself, I laughed and embraced the esper girl, who was probably still wondering if I was delirious or something.

"I can't believe it!" I whispered. "I'm back!"

She broke away. "Back from where?"

"Oh, nothing." Would she have believed me if I told her? "Just a dream, that's all."

She at least seemed willing to accept this as fact. "Well, I bet I know someone who'd like to hear it."

I knew who she was referring to, even before the sentence had completely left her lips. I very quickly jumped into an outfit and raced back upstairs and into the main foyer, where Edgar and Sabin stood hugging and shaking the hands of guests about to depart for home. At a glance, I found him, back on to me, adjusting his bandana and ready to venture out into the darkness.

"Locke, wait!"

Everyone turned to look at me, but they all faded into the background save one. I ran to him and hugged him, forgetting everything I had said and thought about never being able to find a place in the Here and Now. In fact, Here and Now was suddenly the friendliest, most inviting place in the world for me. I never wanted to let him go.

"Cel, what is it?"

I looked him in the eyes and found myself at a loss for words. "I was thinking . . . that is, I had some time to think it over. And I want to go with you on your expedition."

He brightened considerably. "I think my troupe can squeeze you in. But what made you change your mind?"

I sighed. "It's a long story."

He placed an arm around my shoulders and we both walked back with the Figaro brothers into the castle. "Well, you'll have to tell me all about it when we make our way east. We'll have to get ourselves some decent weapons if we're gonna stay ahead of all those cave dwellers."

My thoughts suddenly went back to the blade resting down in my chamber, the one I had used to slay a gigas. "Somehow," I told him cryptically, "I think we'll be just fine."

* * *

I still don't know entirely what to make of it all. Clearly, it must have been real. Sacred Tear is a testament of that. Yet, if I were to try and relate such a tale to any willing to lend me an ear, it would sound ridiculous, farfetched. I suppose this anecdote serves, if not to entertain, then to demonstrate that absolutely anything can happen out of the blue. It was, after all, on some enchanted evening long ago, that an adventure began with my doubting everything and ended with my finding a place in the universe.

Remember - anything is possible.


End file.
